Lemon Bars
by Angel Ren
Summary: Fluffic! Companion to Cupcakes. Edward gets to return Bella's favor and help her make her lemon bars. Superfluff one-shot.


**Ren's back! While taking a break from _Ashes_ I proudly present _Lemon Bars,_ a fluffic one-shot companion to _Cupcakes._ If you haven't read _Cupcakes_, don't worry. It still makes sense. It's cuter if you read _Cupcakes_ first, but not imparative. Remember how, in chapter one, Bella mentions she was going to make lemon bars after she finished helping Edward? Well, here they are. Making lemon bars in a romantastic fluffic one-shot. Enjoy!**

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Lemon Bars  
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I glanced over my shoulder to the living room. Charlie was still sitting on the sofa, watching a sports game. I hadn't bothered to see what sport. I could tell by the roar of the crowd, and Charlie's occasional 'Nice!' that the favored team was, at least for now, winning.

Unfortunately, Charlie showed no signs of going to bed. Which meant that I wouldn't get to see Edward again until _I_ went to bed. Which would be in another hour, when I finished the lemon bars.

"Keyed up, are we, Bells?"

I jumped. I hadn't heard Charlie walk into the kitchen. I glanced at him over my shoulder.

"Naw, just want to get finished," I tried to explain casually. I looked back to the lemony goo I was mixing slowly in the bowl. I paused when I sensed that Charlie was still standing in the doorway.

"Are you alright?"

I peeked over my shoulder at him again before starting to mix.

"Sure," I said.

"How was… how's… …Edward?" Charlie said uncomfortably.

I paused in my mixing, but when right back to it without looking to him.

"Fine," I answered slowly. Charlie wasn't usually interested in what Edward and I were up to. I was suspicious as to his motives. "Edward, Dr. Cullen and his family are quite well, and were very kind to let me go over to their house after school."

"Your hair was mighty pretty," he commented, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

"Alice," I said without hesitation. It was true, and I stabbed the whisk into the batter a little harder than necessary. Edward and I had been asked to bring in baked goods for tomorrow's class. I had jumped at the chance to go over to Edward's after school and help him bake some cupcakes. Emmett, had, of course, hindered the project, and Alice had jumped at the chance to give me a makeover in the process. She'd let me change back into my regular clothes before going home to Charlie's, but my hair was still curled and the makeup was still on.

"Ah," Charlie said. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"So how did the… uh… baked goods-"

"Dad," I said finally, turning around to face him. "Do you want to ask me something?" This beating around the bush was getting irritating. Something was bothering Charlie and he wasn't sure how to say it, so he was dancing around the issue and making us both uncomfortable. I wanted to finish making my own treats – as soon as I finished I could go upstairs and see Edward. Charlie was stalling me, even if he didn't know it.

"He's… okay, right? I mean, his family was home, right? You weren't… alone?"

I groaned internally. So my father was afraid that Edward would take advantage of me. Since telling him that his parents were not home, and it was only Edward and his brother – and Alice later, I avoided the question completely and answered with a different truth.

"Edward was the perfect gentleman, as always," I said confidently.

Charlie sighed in relief.

"Thanks Bells, I was worried the whole time you were away," he admitted sheepishly, turning away to walk back into the living room. I watched him go with mixed emotions. Though it was embarrassing and irritating the way he pried into my personal life and asked for details I wouldn't – couldn't - give, in a way it was touching that he worried about me.

Slowly I turned away and looked back to my sticky hands. All of my fingertips were coated in a lemon-flavored sticky substance. In a few minutes, the crust that was baking in the oven would be finished. As soon as I finished beating the lemon mixture smooth, I could pour it on top of the warm crust and return it to the oven.

As I gripped the wire whisk a little tighter, my fingers slipped off the thin, plastic handle and onto the metal tines. There was a small metal disk that held them out at a certain distance so they wouldn't bend in too far near the handle. Naturally, my fingers found that disk, and I promptly cut my finger.

Dropping the whisk immediately so I wouldn't drip into the batter, I thrust my hand under the running cold water in the sink.

A low hiss sounded behind me, and I looked over my shoulder quickly. Edward was leaning against the doorway, looking very much in pain. Crap.

"Oh! Just-"

"Shh, you'll wake Charlie," he said, moving on into the kitchen. "Don't worry, I'm fine. Just… warn me when you go to take it out," he cautioned softly. "I'm fine, really," he added when I just raised my eyebrow at him.

"I didn't hear Charlie go to bed," I whispered softly while trying to keep my finger beneath the running water.

"That's because he didn't, really." Edward nodded to the living room. Sure enough, behind him, asleep on the sofa, was Charlie. The game was still running which explained why I hadn't registered him turning off the TV.

"How long have you been here?"

"I dropped you off, drove the Volvo home, and ran right back," he murmured smoothly, still walking toward me. He stopped, barely an inch away from me, his eyes never leaving mine.

"A perfect gentleman, was I?"

My heart thudded stupidly in my chest and we both cracked a grin at the same time. With exaggeratedly slow movements, Edward reached around me and turned the faucet off. Taking my wounded hand in his, he brought it forward, holding it between his two larger hands.

He continued to watch me, and with a wink so fast I nearly missed it, he brought my injured hand to his lips and gently kissed my fingers. After gently returning my hand to my side, he stepped up beside me to look over the lemon bars in progress.

"What's left to do?" His voice was smooth and soft. I was so overwhelmed with how beautiful his voice sounded; I almost forgot what he had asked.

"Oh," I said, slipping out of the trance. Briefly, I glanced down to my hands as I turned back to the counter – the angry wound had subsided. "Well, when the timer beeps, the crust is in the oven. Once I finish with this batter, I'll pour it in and then put the whole thing back in the oven," I finished.

Edward said nothing, his eyes just looking over the lemon batter on the counter in front of me.

"Smooth?" He glanced to me as he asked, and I nodded. Before I could respond audibly, he picked up the bowl and rinsed off the whisk.

Seconds later, he handed the bowl back to me, the batter creamy and smooth, just as the oven timer chimed. I smiled and took the bowl from him and he ducked away to get the crust out of the oven.

"I'm not going to burn myself," I muttered. Edward's enchantingly soft chuckle sounded as he spun around, holding the hot pan. I cleared a space on the counter, and together we poured the sweet filling into the crust pan. While I was setting the empty bowl into a sink, Edward made it a point to pick up the pan and put it back in the oven himself. Trying to act offended, I quietly set the timer. We had fifteen to seventeen minutes to do... nothing.

It was my favorite thing to do when Edward was involved.

"Shall we clean?" Edward gestured to the empty bowls and dishes sitting in the sink, but I shook my head.

"That can wait," I murmured, moving toward him. Quickly falling into suit, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.

He chuckled and carefully we backed out into the living room.

"And what do you propose we tell Charlie when he wakes up and finds us like this," Edward whispered in my ear. I froze. I had forgotten that Charlie was asleep on the sofa. Carefully, I peeked around Edward's body and glanced to the sofa where my father slept. His snores were loud – he was sleeping deeply. Still, the second to last thing I wanted to explain was why Edward was in the house. The last thing I wanted to explain was that he was a vampire.

"What should we do? We need to be able to hear the timer-" Edward placed a finger over my lips and glanced to the stairs.

"Do you really think I wouldn't hear it from your room?"

Without waiting for me to answer the obvious, one of his arms slipped around my back and the other caught the back of my knees. We moved, and before my heart beat three times, he was standing at the top of the stairs, carrying me into my bedroom. I sighed softly.

Very carefully, he set me down on my bed before easing himself next to me without taking his eyes from mine. Softly, his cool fingertips trailed up my arms and to my shoulders before flitting to my face. His thumb brushed over my cheek delicately, and I could see the strain it took him to be gentle. It really was so easy for him to slip...

"What are you thinking?" His velvet words interrupted my not-so-pleasant thoughts.

"What?"

"Your eyes," he murmured. "And your heart jumped. What did you just think about?"

"Nothing," I lied. Edward just raised an eyebrow in response. He didn't believe me. His thumb paused briefly before staring to trace circles again.

"I would never, _ever_ hurt you," he whispered. Sometimes I wondered if he _could_ read my mind, after all. I shook my head.

"That's not-"

"Ever," he said again. I stared into his eyes and I realized with a painful knot that he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince me. I nodded my head, trying to add to that reassurance.

"I know," I said. And I did. He would never hurt me. Even if he did, even if that _was_ what it came to, I would rather die with that than live never knowing him.

I leaned up toward him, and very slowly, watching his reaction, moved closer. Never taking my eyes from him so he knew exactly what I was going to do, I brushed my lips lightly over his.

"I know," I said again, this time with more confidence than both of us had had before. Though my lips ached to touch his again, I knew he needed space from my scent, and I begrudgingly leaned away from him.

He, though, had other plans. Quickly – but ever delicately, his hands caught and cradled the back of my head. We both paused for a moment, and then he leaned down and kissed my lips softly. I was good – I didn't move or try to attack him. My hands did clench into fists to try and prevent the human reaction, though.

It grew increasingly difficult to keep from moving as his lips brushed butterfly kisses across mine. Reacting, I parted my lips and exhaled softly. Edward paused, but then continued to leave a trail of butterfly kisses along my cheek, down my jaw bone and on my bottom lip.

Edward groaned softly and pulled away. He tilted his chin down and stared up at me through his lashes. His gaze was absolutely scorching.

"The timer beeped," he murmured unwillingly. He didn't want to leave our position any more than I did.

"I'll be right back, then," I consoled him.

"No, I'll be right behind you," he corrected.

I turned away and rolled my eyes lightly – I heard him chuckle in response, as if he could tell.

I bounced down the stairs lightly, and paused to peek at Charlie on the sofa. Still sleeping. I walked on past him and into the kitchen. Cautiously, I peeked over my shoulder when I heard no sound behind me. Edward just smiled in response. Satisfied that he was there, I moved to the oven.

I reached for the door, but Edward slipped by me and pulled the door open and slipped the pan out. After setting it on the counter to cool and shutting off the oven, he turned to face me, his icy fingertips brushing across my cheeks lightly.

"About this gentleman thing," he murmured softly. I felt my cheeks color in response and I smiled sheepishly.

"What was I supposed to tell Charlie?" I whispered, staring up into his eyes.

"I am _far_ from being a gentleman, Bella."

"Compared to whom? Your world or mine," I muttered. Whether he was gentlemanly in his world was irrelevant. None of the Mikes or Tylers of my world would ever stack up against Edward's old world habits.

"The only one that matters," he said mysteriously. When I looked at him and raised my eyebrows in encouragement to continue, he just shrugged and avoided the issue.

"My point is," he articulated for emphasis as his hands came to rest on my shoulders, "I would not… call myself… a gentleman," he finished softly. With each couple of words his hands slipped down my arms until his pianist fingers rested on my waist.

I felt my heart stutter slightly as he stared into my eyes. My breath hitched and my heart skipped a beat. The melting look he gave me was definitely _not_ gentlemanly.

"Do you see?" His voice was low and had an unusual hoarseness to it. I just leaned up to him and pressed my lips to his in response. His fingertips tightened at my waist and my heart fluttered erratically.

I pulled away before I lost control of myself again and he just chuckled in response. He turned away from me and back toward the counter pausing only briefly to look at me.

With careful, gentle fingers, he put plastic wrap over the top of the pan of lemon bars before slipping them into the refrigerator.

"And now?" He smiled softly, waiting for my answer.

"I don't know," I said, a bit dazed by his gaze.

His eyes flickered to the clock on the wall and then glanced to Charlie, still snoring on the sofa.

"I think, perhaps, it's bedtime for the human," he murmured, his eyes sliding back to mine. My heart flopped in response. His caramel gaze was like liquid topaz and in a rather chivalrous movement; he offered his arm to me.

Carefully, I wrapped my arms around his arm, and arm in arm we walked toward the stairs, Edward flipping out all the lights on the way.

At the bottom of the stairs, he hesitated. Gently, he untangled his arm from mine, and I watched as he moved silently to where Charlie was sleeping. He picked up the control and turned the volume down so it was very soft. Charlie was like me – if he fell asleep to noise and the noise was turned off completely, he would wake up. Edward was clever enough to turn the volume down just enough so that it would not bother him.

Next, I watched as he unfurled my grandmother's knit blanket from where it lay folded on the back of a chair. With surprising tenderness, Edward draped the blanket across Charlie's form before returning to my side.

Instead of offering me his arm, he swept me up into his embrace and carried me up the stairs. Again.

"Not a gentleman?" I inquired pointedly. He just chuckled softly and carefully set me on my feet in my bedroom. Instantly I plopped down on the side of my bed and watched him closely as best I could in my dark bedroom. Neither of us had bothered to turn on the lights.

"Not at all," he murmured quietly. He moved like lightning – I didn't even see the movement. One moment, he was standing in front of me, looking at me contemplatively. The next, I was curled on my side on my bed. Edward's arms wrapped around me from behind, his lips at my ear.

"Not at all," he repeated softly before pressing his lips to my neck.


End file.
